Tuesday, September 25, 2012

random thoughts

Gestures of love are always the most anonymous ones: a man adjusting his wife jacket and squeezing her hand, removing a hair strand from a beloved's face, kissing a beloved hand or face. I see these gestures everyday from regular people in the bus, people with no names and whom I might never see again.

One couple though caught my attention because I came across them a few times. The man: shaved head and beard, the tough look of a biker, his partner :in a wheelchair, oversized jacket and a baseball cap on her dirty blond messy hair. An unlikely couple but with looks and gestures of tenderness for each other. Sweet and it's always like that when I see them together.

Lately I am in love with the french word "effleurer". It just brings possibilities and might have beens. Effleurer le visage de son aimé, sa main, son corps. Effleurer/froler un étranger qui vous souris. Capturer la magie d'un instant.

I am looking forward to go home. Not because it's home. I need a break from sterile Mississauga. I want to be able to smell and taste the salty sea again, feel the humidity and heat around me and go to the noisy and colorful markets. I want to ride our rickety buses full of old ladies in saris and tentes bazaar. I want to see the colorful concrete houses-ugly and pretty and not the copy-paste ones so typical of the canadian.

What do I miss? I miss my dogs, my Doudou, hold her tight and never let go. I miss the starry nights where I knew the constellations by heart and could point jupiter-venus-orion-scorpio-pleaides to you w/o blinking. I miss the fields of sugarcane in bloom in the morning where everything looked covered in warm gold. I miss the rainy seasons and cyclones w/ torrential rains. I miss sleeping w/ the candle light when the power is cut off. I miss the smell of Port-Louis market. I miss the smell of night jasmine as it blooms at night. I miss the redness of the Flamboyants along the streets.

This is funny...because I know I can't live in Mauritius, paradise or not. I guess the heart always long for what it can't have.

For once I will be happy when I am told "welcome back home".

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